Comfort
by creativeone13
Summary: After his mother's death, Spock somehow winds up in Nyota's room in the middle of the night.
1. Chapter 1

The door opened with a swish, and as she was the only one the computer recognized, Nyota knew somebody had overridden the control panel. Spock moved inside and then stopped, and as the door swished shut all went dark once more. His tall silhouette, which had been visible with the glow of the hallway, vanished as the light was extinguished, and yet as she listened in the dark, there were no sounds of movement. Nyota was not surprised at his hesitation – rather she was surprised that he had actually allowed himself to come and break into her room, especially at a time when it was obvious she would be asleep. Instead of being perturbed at this intrusion however, she was relieved. As she continued to listen, she heard his breathing, strained and choked, and couldn't stand it any more.

"Computer, lights, dim." She stared at the one that she loved, and felt her heart break. Though he tried not to show any emotion, she knew how hurt he was. Spock had not only just lost his home planet, but also the only other person besides Nyota that had outwardly shown him affection and love, instead of treating him like some freak.

He stared at her, his black eyes glittering as his mind told him logically that being here with Lt. Uhura would not bring his mother back. He also found himself not paying very much attention to that part of his mind – he wished that he could finally just shut it off. It was true that he tried to follow the Vulcan way of life, constantly aiming to please his father and those that did not accept him. But she had asked him what she could do to help him, had demonstrated that she cared, had made him feel like it was safe to let down his guard. With her, it was safe to feel.

Unable to continue the silence, she spoke. "Spock?" At the sound of her voice, he came out of his reverie, and realized that although she cared, she may not appreciate him entering her quarters late at night, and standing there staring at her as she lay in bed. It wasn't proper at all.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant, forgive me, " Spock said, voice cracking as he tried unsuccessfully to bury his feelings once more. He turned to go, resolving to head back to his own quarters when he heard the sound of her quickly getting out of bed. The touch of her arm on his, stopping him, holding him, was all it took. His head hung as a tear fell from his eye, an eye that had watched his mother die in front of him. Hands wrapped around his waist as Nyota pressed into his back, her face buried into his shoulder, almost reaching his pointed ear.

She pulled him backwards until the back of her legs bumped into her bed, stopped, moved beside him and gently pushed him down onto it. To her it seemed as though he was drained of energy, finally tired of pretending to be strong and unfeeling. "Get in," she said gently, lifting up the covers after reaching down and unlacing his boots. Nyota was slightly surprised that he wasn't fighting her on this, but was relieved that he hadn't wasted energy trying, as she wouldn't have taken no for an answer.

He was flat on his back as she climbed in beside him, and as she reached to embrace him, Spock turned away. Even though it was he who had come to her, he whispered, "Nyota, I don't want you to see me like this."

She wouldn't be defeated so easily though. "Computer, lights off," she stated clearly, turning him back to her. "There, now I can't see you, but I'm still here for you. What do you need?"

What did he need? A question with limitless answers it sometimes seemed, and yet tonight he could only come up with one. As Nyota held him close, running her hands up and down his back, her forehead pressed to his, Spock knew that he could reply in a multitude of languages and she would understand him completely, but that wouldn't be good enough. Instead he pressed his lips gently to hers, and gave her the answer she had wanted to hear in the elevator, the answer she was still desperately wanting to hear now. When his lips lifted of hers, he uttered the simple statement, the one thing he had left, the one thing he wanted, needed, and loved. "You."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note-

I just wanted to say that I was not expecting such a positive reaction to my first story, so thank you VERY very much everyone!

This takes place the morning after Chapter 1, and is just a little fluff. I wasn't sure if I should post this or just leave Chapter 1 as a one-shot, but since I wrote it I figured what the heck – if anybody gets any enjoyment out of it then my job is done =)

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He woke before she did, noting that sometime during the night she must have relieved him of his blue Starfleet shirt. Although it was always pristine and perfectly pressed, it was not entirely comfortable to sleep in. "No," he thought to himself, glancing down at her sleeping form, "this is much better."

She was sprawled across him haphazardly, and yet even like this he could only describe her as graceful. Her head, and her hair along with it, rested on his chest, her expression peaceful. He could feel her arms wrapped around his waist, and the thought crossed his mind that she might desire something physically more from him. Spock had never before felt self-conscious about anything other than his ears and eyes, the distinctive Vulcan and human qualities that immediately announced what he was, and what he wasn't. And yet, lying there without anything other than Nyota covering the top half of his body, his mind flashed to student conversations he had overheard in the hallways of the Academy. Words like 'six-pack' and 'ripped' seemed to cause excitement in female students. He wondered if Nyota would desire this in him as well. He knew that he was by all accounts physically fit, excelling in this aspect of his training along with all others. However, he did not believe that with what he possessed, he could 'wash clothes on those abs' as he had once heard a particularly loud green-skinned cadet once exclaim. What a ridiculous notion when there were washing machines perfectly suited for that job. No, his Nyota was nothing like that he assured himself.

Glancing down at her once more, he remembered her actions last night, and, almost hesitantly, lifted his arm from where it lay beside him and placed it upon her back. As he mimicked what she had done, stroking her back up and down her spine through the nightgown she wore, he sighed softly. Though his action could serve no logical purpose, seeing as how she was asleep and wouldn't know either way, he felt strangely comforted by it, a feeling he could not explain.

As he continued his attentions to her back, his pointed ears picked up a difference in her breathing patterns. It was quite evident to him that she was now awake, so why did she feign sleep? Was she ashamed? Embarrassed? Spock hoped not – didn't she realize that without her last night, he would most likely be catatonic by now, or perhaps still lying to himself, believing that if people worked admirably everything would be okay?

He couldn't stop himself from satisfying what he could only describe as his human curiosity. "Nyota," he stated with some confusion, "it is obvious that you are awake. Why do you pretend otherwise?" He went to move his hand when she opened her eyes, and stared into his

"So you wouldn't do that," she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His hand stopped in mid-air, and he looked at it questioningly, and then back at her, uncertain if he had understood her correctly. She smiled and nodded, moving up his body until she was able to give him a good-morning kiss. Replacing his hand on the small of her back, and moving the other to join it, he held her to him, thinking, "as long as she wants me, I'm hers." Little did he know that the woman lying on top of him was thinking the very same thing.

"Spock," she mumbled into his shoulder, "how long can you stay?" The logical answer would've been 47 minutes until he needed to go back to his quarters and get ready for duty. Somehow though, he didn't think this was the type of answer she was looking for.

"Forever, Nyota," he murmured, knowing that he never wanted to leave.


End file.
